


If You Say It With Your Hands

by pastlives



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Fingerfucking, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 01:21:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastlives/pseuds/pastlives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His birthday party had been insane. Both of the parties had been insane, really, as well as the dinner. He was quite lucky to have such great friends. He was quite lucky to have Nick; Nick who spoiled him and loved him and threw him two birthday parties. </p><p>(PWP. Post-birthday party finger fucking. That's it.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Say It With Your Hands

“Can’t believe you got me a stripper! You made me look like a twat!” Harry’s shoving Nick as they walk through the flat, tossing off jackets and dropping keys onto the counter. He shakes his head and pushes through Nick’s bedroom door, toeing off his socks and shoes as Nick strips for bed.  
  
Nick laughs loudly, cackles actually, and looks at Harry through his flopping quiff. “You didn’t look like a twat! Was quite cute, actually, you all flustered like that. Best idea I’ve had in awhile, don’t you agree?”  
  
Harry pouts, tries to keep it steady, but breaks into a grin anyway. Nick comes up in front of him, down to his boxers, and wraps his arms around Harry’s waist. Harry places his around Nick’s shoulders, leaning up to peck him briefly.  
  
His birthday party had been _insane_. Both of the parties had been insane, really, as well as the dinner. He was quite lucky to have such great friends. He was quite lucky to have Nick; Nick who spoiled him and loved him and threw him two birthday parties.  
  
Harry presses his lips to Nick’s again, smiling into the kiss. “Thank you,” he whispers against Nick’s mouth, sounding small and awed, “I love you, y’know? Tonight was perfect, last night was perfect. It really means a lot to me.” He molds his lips to Nick’s again and tightens his arms around Nick’s shoulders.  
  
"Hey," Nick says quietly, slowly breaking the kiss, "happy birthday." He looks Harry in the eyes and smiles, rubbing his thumb along Harry's bottom lip.

Harry smiles back lazily. "S'not my birthday anymore, technic’ly."

"Oh," Nick replies, rising his voice slightly, "in that case then!" He makes quick work of detaching himself from Harry and hopping onto the bed, turning to make a show of fluffing his pillow to get ready to lie on it. He reaches an arm up to click off the bedside table lamp, not bothering to look at Harry's face, "G'night then, Harold-" 

Harry cuts him off. " _Nick_ ," he whines, drawing out the 'i' in his name, "no, kiss me." He climbs onto the bed and runs a hand down Nick's back, reaching out to grab his hip to turn Nick to face him again. "Kiss me," he repeats, firmer, as Nick turns to him smirking.

The smirk is quickly wiped off his face when he sees Harry; eyes wide, pupils blowing, mouth red and lip in between his teeth.

Harry blinks at him once before taking Nick by the shoulders and pulling at him until they're leveled. "Hi," he whispers, "y’should kiss me again now."

Nick huffs out a laugh, but leans in and kisses Harry once, right above his left eye. He shifts and kisses above the right one, then leaves one on his nose. Harry takes in a breath, whispering Nick's name as he lets it out, fists his hands in Nick's hair, and pulls him in for a bruising kiss. He keeps a sturdy grip on Nick’s hair and bites at his bottom lip, running his tongue over after to soothe before licking into Nick’s mouth. Harry slides his tongue around Nick’s and moans into his mouth, opening his legs and leaning back, pulling Nick on top of him by his hold on Nick’s hair.

Nick slots himself in between Harry’s legs and breaks from the kiss to trail his tongue down Harry’s jaw and throat. He reaches the collar of Harry’s shirt and makes an agitated noise, nipping at the skin above it before pulling away to glare up at Harry. “Shirt’s stupid, Harry. Stupid hearts and collar and who even buttons to the top, anyways? C’mon, off.” Harry whines and shoves Nick’s head out of the way to pop the buttons, fumbling with the second one until Nick removes his hands and undoes it on his own. He works his way down the shirt, stopping to kiss each inch of skin as every button comes undone. 

He helps pull Harry out of the shirt when he finishes, tossing it onto the floor and attaching his mouth back to Harry’s torso, licking and biting. He moves to a mark left the night before, after Harry’s dinner and first party, dragging his teeth across it and drawing a deep moan from Harry.  
  
“Nick, please.” Nick looks up at Harry, unsure of what he’s asking for, and Harry just looks at him and says it again.  
  
“What d’you want, babe?” Nick asks, pressing a kiss under Harry’s navel. “Not sure if I’m up for a full round at the moment, if I’m bein’ honest.” He flattens his tongue and licks over Harry’s belly button before looking back up at him.  
  
“Just, _please_. Whatever – Your fingers, fuck, can I have your fingers?” Harry sounds wrecked already, voice deep and even more slurred. “God, just do something. Touch me, please.”  
  
Nick’s breath hitches at that and he bites Harry’s hip and sits up, undoing Harry’s jeans. He slides them down Harry’s legs as Harry pushes to shove his briefs down quickly after. “Eager?” Nick chuckles, flicking at a bruise on Harry’s inner thigh.  
  
Harry arches at the touch, nodding frantically. “Yes, yeah, yes. Need you now.” He reaches over to the nightstand, throwing open the drawer and rummaging through it. He makes an annoyed noise in the back of his throat before grumbling, “Nick, where’s it, the lube? Where’d we – oh! Oh, here.” Harry grins, triumphant and loopy, and tosses the bottle to Nick, “’kay, fuck, come on.” He spreads his legs further and looks at Nick expectantly.  
  
Nick rolls his eyes. “How do you go from incredibly drunk, to sweet, to sexy, to bossy? You’re bossy. Did you know you were bossy?”  
  
“Shut up, it’s my birthday.”  
  
Nick rolls his eyes again, but slicks up his fingers anyway. He glances up at Harry before reaching between his legs and slowly running a finger over his hole, watching as Harry’s eyes clench shut and listening as he lets out a groan. Nick adds more pressure, kisses Harry’s hip, and pushes his finger in slowly. “God, yeah, ” Harry moans, and Nick grunts in agreement, moving his finger a bit before pulling it out and pushing back in harder. He continues the movement a few more times before pulling out and pushing back in with another.  
  
Harry whines, fists in the sheets, “Nick. Nick – c’mon. More, harder.” He trails the sentence off as Nick thrusts his fingers in roughly, and grinds his hips down, chasing after Nick’s fingers.  
  
Nick adds a third and fucks them into Harry, pushing them deeper and crooking. He leans up and presses a kiss to the head of Harry’s cock, flicking his tongue out to gather the pre-come settled there, and Harry arches his back as he lets out a loud wail. He scrabbles his hands at Nick’s shoulders and Nick moves up, allows Harry to pull him in for a dirty kiss, tongues meeting first. Nick continues fucking his fingers in and out of Harry, but the angle’s slightly off, awkward, and Harry ruts down harder onto them, seeking more contact and pressure. Nick murmurs encouragement into Harry’s mouth between flicks of his tongue and leaves Harry gasping, working himself on Nick’s fingers.  
  
Nick pulls away from Harry’s mouth and leans back, gripping Harry’s hip with his free hand and lifting him up more, pulling him down onto his fingers. Harry’s back is arched, hips off the bed, and Nick moves his hand down to his lower back to steady him as Harry grinds against him. “Can you – can you take another?”  
  
“I don’t know? I think,” Harry gasps, “I need, can I, can I touch myself?” He doesn’t wait for Nick to respond, just chokes off a moan and starts moving his hand to his dick, leaking and untouched.  
  
Nick swats his hand away, though, before Harry can touch himself, shaking his head. “No, none of that, just my fingers, yeah?” He kisses Harry’s thigh and crooks his fingers against Harry’s prostate, “You can take one more, I know you can. Come on, Harry.” He lets Harry’s hips go, grabbing the lube and drizzling some over Harry’s hole and the fingers already in him, making everything even more slick, and gently slides a fourth finger in, causing Harry to seize up and let out a sob. “’ve got you, love, c’mon.”  
  
Harry thrashes against the bed and ruts against Nick’s fingers. He shakes his head and whimpers, “Nick, I can’t, it’s –“ Harry cuts himself off, croaking. He’s shaking, caught between shying away and continuing pushing back onto Nick’s fingers. Nick strokes at his hip softly and peppers kisses to his lower stomach. “It’s too much. I’m, _shit_ , I. Nick.”  
  
“Okay, you’re okay, I’ve got you.” Nick’s voice is soothing. “You’re good Harry, so good, doing great for me.” He’s muttering nonsense, anything to get Harry to relax. “Do you, d’you need me to stop? Wanna slow it down?” Harry nods, hands pulling hard at his hair and eyes clenched shut.  
  
Nick pulls his fingers out slowly, ready to reach for Harry’s dick, but Harry stops him. “No, not all of them. No, just.” He grabs Nick’s hand and moves it back down. “Just not four, s’too much right now.” He’s blushing passed his general flush, not looking directly at Nick. He seems embarrassed. Nick frowns.  
  
“Harry. Haz, no, it’s okay. You know it’s all fine, right? Don’t want to hurt you.” He leans up, placing a hand on Harry’s cheek and stroking his cheekbone, before leaning in for a kiss. “Don’t ever want to hurt you.”  
  
Harry whines, but nods. Nick kisses him once again, lingering this time, before thrusting two fingers back into him. Harry’s stretched more now, so it’s easier for him to move, and he adds a third quickly, picking up a pace and fucking the three fingers into Harry hard and fast again. He sets up a rough rhythm, one Harry matches with his hips. Nick pushes his fingers deep on one particular thrust, up against Harry’s prostate, leaving them there and just nudging against it.  
  
Harry’s fucking down onto Nick’s fingers frantically now, mumbling that he’s close between moans. Nick barely moves his fingers, allowing Harry to bring himself closer to the edge. He tells Harry how good he is, how pretty he looks like this, stretched around Nick’s fingers, fucking himself on them like it’s the only thing he wants in the world, and Harry comes with a cry, tears pooling in his eyes, hips stuttering harshly over Nick’s fingers.  
  
Nick watches Harry, waits for him to come to before slowly removing his fingers and wincing when Harry’s hips stutter and his breath hitches. Nick looks up at him, smiling, apologetic. “Y’alright, love?” Harry grins, breathes out an affirmative and reaches his hands out to Nick. Nick knees up the bed, linking a hand with Harry’s.  
  
“Gonna go get a flannel to clean you up,” Nick says, brushing his thumb over Harry’s knuckles. “I’ll be right back.”  
  
“What about, what about you?” Harry gestures towards Nick’s tented boxers, eyebrow raised. “Want me to blow you, or…”  
  
“Nah, m’fine. This was for you. I’ll probably just have a wank in the bathroom after you fall asleep or whatever, it’s not a big deal.”  
  
He turns to get off the bed but Harry stops him. “Nick,” he wines, “that’s not fair. S’my birthday, remember? Let me get you off. Lemme watch, at least.” Harry gets his hands on Nick’s boxers, pulling them down so his cock bobs up against his stomach. Harry trails one finger down it, watching as Nick shivers. “Yeah, I wanna watch.”  
  
“Fuck, Harry.” Nick moans, getting a hand on himself. He’s still slightly slick from the lube so he slides his fist along his length a few times, before picking up and letting himself really get into it. He does his best to keep his eyes open, studying Harry’s face closely for reaction.  
  
Harry’s mouth is open and he’s still breathing harshly, cheeks red, flushed, and tear stained. He darts his tongue out to lick his lips, but his eyes stay trained on Nick’s dick in his hand.  
  
Nick’s watching Harry so intently he doesn’t even realize he’s speaking, the only thing giving it away is the movement of his mouth. “ _Yes, Nick_ ,” Harry’s saying, encouraging him to come, “wanna see you come. Can I, please? I want to see you get yourself off. My birthday, remember? Want to see you come for my birthday. Please, _c’mon_.” Nick’s close now, rutting into his fist. Harry takes Nick’s hand in his own and laces their fingers together, and that’s what does it for Nick. He comes, tightening his grip on Harry’s hand and babbling out his name in a mantra.  
  
Nick flops down onto the bed, burying himself in it as Harry fits himself against him. Nick wraps an arm around Harry and kisses his hair. “Happy birthday, Harry. You sure you’re good?”  
  
Harry nods, nuzzling his nose into Nick’s neck. He bites there, gentle, before smirking. “Not my birthday anymore, remember?  
  
Nick laughs, carding his fingers through Harry’s hair. “Yeah, yeah. You weren’t saying that just minutes ago. Fine then, happy early-morning-after your birthday, then. How’s that work, bossy?”  
  
“Perfect.”


End file.
